Sunday, January 29, 2012

I write this post with the sound of Lion King running in the next room. I can't tell you how many times I've watched this movie. The first time I saw it was on my birthday in 1994. My sister took me to the movie, and I was pregnant with Simon. I was nearly sobbing before the title even came onto the screen because of the pageantry of the birth of that cub!

Throughout Simon's childhood, Lion King was the movie he wanted to watch most often. Sometimes it was for the animals. He loves wild animals, and the animation is so life-like in some sequences, I think it really inspired and informed his ideas about drawing them. Usually, though, this movie was the place of comfort he sought when he didn't feel well, when he needed cheering, when he desired familiarity. We'd lay on the couch together and watch it over and over and over when he was ill and very young. I remember telling him over and over that it never mattered what he did, he never had to run away and avoid telling me like Pumba hid from his mother. I pray, now, that the message is still in his head as he faces adulthood. Maybe I'll tell him again today.

It's been many years since we've watched his movie. It's fun to have it on again.

Sunday, January 01, 2012

As we start into a new year, I am starting on a new adventure. I've been out of the blogging world for a while because of personal drama, and it's time for me to take back my life and get back to being who I enjoy being. I enjoy thinking and writing and sharing, and even if no one reads the blog, it's cathartic to me and that makes it enough of a good thing.

Of the 3-5 people who read the blog, if any of you still pay enough attention to see this post, probably all of you know that my marriage has broken. We will sign dissolution papers on Jan 4, and about a month after that we'll appear before a judge and it will all be over. I have other venues for working through most of those emotions and memories and all of those things. I have always wanted this blog to be about making lists to help me remember important things. In the past I've listed what has made me happy, what I need to do, what I dislike, what I'm thinking, etc. Tonight, while the clock turns us over into day 2 of 2012, I am going to list . . .

Lessons I've Learned in 2011

Divorce is more like a funeral than a fight. It's more about mourning the loss of something and someone you had or thought you had figured out, and the stark terror of having to be single again.

I am smarter than I realize.

I have been an enabler, but I can change.

I am stronger than I think I am, and I should not discount all of the things that I (and God) have already come through. Those trials have strengthened me, and my faith.

We have a big God, and He loves each of us enough to allow us to learn from our own mistakes.

The house doesn't have to be clean to be appropriate for company. It's our hearts that welcome them, not the lack of clutter and dust bunnies.

Friends and family are truly the greatest treasure a person can ever have.

I have more friends, who care more about me than I ever realized.

It is very hard to ask for help, but it is even harder to try to do things without help.

Wishing is great, but DOING is even more important.

I was reading Neil Gaiman's journal on Saturday, and he wrote a marvelous post about his wishes for the new year. He ends with this:

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.

And that, my friends, is what I wish for you and myself as well. I plan to make glorious, amazing mistakes this year. Thanks for coming along for the ride!